"Some of the fellows are nice enough.

But some of them are awful cads.

There's one--he's about thirteen, a year or so younger than I--his name's Prosper something or other--I actually met him out of school in the street, carrying a bundle of wood! A boy that sits next me in the class!" he added, with considerable disgust.
"Is he a poor boy ?" asked Sylvia.
"No--at least not what you'd call a poor boy.

None of them are that.

But he got precious red, I can tell you, when he saw me--just like a cad." "Is he a naughty boy?
Does he not do his lessons well ?" asked grandmother.
"Oh I daresay he does; he is not an ill-natured fellow.